


Listening

by SynonymRoll648



Category: Keeper of the Lost Cities Series - Shannon Messenger
Genre: Butterflies that "don't mean anything" ;), Emotional Support Stuffed Animals, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Sharing a Bed (but nothing steamy happens), Talking out worries, Tiergan is a Good Dad, missing memories, self doubt, staying the night, takes place during Flashback
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-20 06:28:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30000693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SynonymRoll648/pseuds/SynonymRoll648
Summary: Keefe had agreed to go to Tiergan's house to try and rediscover some of his missing memories with high hopes, but their findings were a huge letdown. The elf he'd least expect to talk out his feelings with offers to listen to him.
Relationships: Keefe Sencen & Tiergan (Keeper of the Lost Cities), Keefe Sencen/Tam Song, Linh Song & Tam Song
Kudos: 10





	Listening

Some trees. A sunset. A pair of green eyes so blurry that he had no clue who they belonged to. 

Keefe replayed each fragment of memories he couldn’t find so many times that his head hurt. He and Tiergan had spent _hours_ sifting through his mind, attempting to find meaningful information that was buried. When they’d found the tiny little pocket in his mind, Keefe was confident that they had a breakthrough on their hands. 

But no, it was just shards of wholes so vague that they could mean anything. 

He’d been so excited to finally get some useful answers for the burning questions in his mind. And then the hopes he stacked so high came crashing down. The letdown was much more painful than he ever would have anticipated. He wasn’t exactly sure why the disappointment hurt so much. Like he was one of his failed sketches being crumpled up and tossed aside. 

Bluish-black bruises on his knuckles from punching the floor were the aftermath of letting out his frustration. After a bit of arguing, he’d let Tiergan treat them with Bruise Cruise. 

_"_ __M_ aybe you don’t care, Keefe, but your friends definitely will. I know how much you hate being coddled.” The look in his eyes communicated that he was thinking of Cassius’ undoubtedly negative reaction as well. _

_“Fine.” He sighed._

The famed Telepathy mentor had been kind enough to have him stick around for dinner, and offer a place to stay for the night. They both knew that he didn’t want to face his dad right now. 

Well, he never wanted to deal with his dad, but at the moment he especially resented the prospect. Keefe didn’t have the energy to tough out unreasonable anger lashed out towards him. His upbeat armor and mask were too cracked to properly protect him from the painful sting of cruel words. By tomorrow morning they’d be shiny and smooth once more, but right now was too soon. 

It was surprising that Tam hadn’t objected when Tiergan explained that Keefe would be staying the night in one of the bunkbeds in his room, since he’d shared with Linh before she moved to Choralmere to try again with their parents. He’d simply nodded and said; “Okay.” before going back to eating his dinner. 

The nonchalant reaction was enough to confirm Keefe’s theory that the Shade had been hiding in the shadows nearby when Tiergan was helping him out. Flickers of shadows had shifted closer occasionally, and he’d glimpsed a glimmer of silver twice. The second time the color seemed to hold intensity and a ring of gray on the outer area, so he assumed that the first sighting had been a strand of his bangs, and the second one of his eyes. 

Now Keefe restlessly shifted in the top bunk once more. When would sleep finally claim him? It didn’t seem like it’d be anytime soon. If he were in his room, he would have grabbed a sketchbook and doodled until his eyelids felt like they were being closed by a magnetic force that he couldn’t fight. But he wasn’t. He was curled up underneath arctic blue blankets accented with coral swirls, his head cushioned by multiple puffy pillows with phrases like; _Sweet dreams; If you believe in yourself, anything is possible; Be kind, Be Brave;_ etc. 

_Why is the air conditioning cranked up so high?_ The blond tugged the hem of the comforter out of where it was crammed between the mattress and the end rail and attempted to cocoon himself in the duvet. And the silky sheet beneath. 

Discomfort crept in as soon as he settled. Like he was _almost_ in the right position for resting, but not quite. With a groan, he twisted this way and that until he flopped on his back. 

_Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock._ Incessantly Tam’s unseen clock clucked its quiet rhythm. But in the state of mind Keefe was in at the moment, it seemed more like a pounding pulse ringing in his ears. 

One of the pillows almost fell off when he turned over once more. It would have tumbled to the floor if his left hand hadn’t snatched out to grab it. Keefe hugged it close as he turned back to the wall. 

Two minutes of tranquility were cherished. Since he couldn’t have nice things, he was ruffled once more at minute three. An irritated undertone growled low in his throat on his next dragged out exhale. 

He flipped over for the umpteenth time with annoyed half lidded eyes. But his icy blue gaze widened when he heard commotion from the bunk below for the first time. Sheets rustled as Tam drug himself out of bed. Keefe’s ears didn’t miss the grumble either. 

Keefe resisted the urge to move closer to the guard rail and peer down at his frenemy. For the first time in hours, his antsy muscles refused to move. 

The audible disturbance of fabric ceased for a beat. He must’ve been standing. Then, quieter than before, it resumed. With his eyes still wide open, Keefe attempted to mentally paint the visual that accompanied the noises. He carefully depicted that Tam was straightening out his pillows or something. It didn’t sound like he’d crawled back onto the mattress. 

Then the string of disruptions halted once more. Keefe was definitely alert now. _What’s Bangs Boy doing?_ He thought. 

What he definitely didn’t expect was a pale hand suddenly latching onto the bedframe of his bunk. Keefe inhaled sharply through his nose and bolted upright, rapidly scooching to the wall. 

Tam heaved himself up and over the side bars in one fluid motion, finishing the clearly practiced movement by sitting neatly so his feet were planted on the mattress. The plaid fabric of his pajama pants swished with the motion. Wrinkles ever so slightly distorted the message; _Dear brain, please shut up, I’m trying to sleep_ embroidered into the loose unbuttoned white tunic he wore. 

Usually, the intensity of Tam’s silvery blue eyes didn’t faze him. There was only one time he could recall when they actually did - back when their connection started blossoming into a friendship after months of mutual hatred. When Tam said as long as he didn’t defect to the Neverseen or something stupid like that again, they were good. 

Now, for the second time, he found himself pinned under that analyzing stare. Neither of them moved. Keefe remained still as a statue, and so did the boy in front of him. 

Keefe searched his metallic eyes. The silent emotions and messages he found deepening their depths didn’t align with what he expected. No irritation. No dark edge that indicated that he was on the verge of snapping. They weren’t soft, but they weren’t hard either. A neutral calm. 

He’d always thought that it was strange that people said they were similar. And right here, right now, he had more evidence to support his claim that they weren’t. Because in that moment, key differences between them were glaringly obvious. 

Focused. Unreadable. Prepared. Cool and collected. All good phrases to describe Tam’s stance between them. Egocentric confidence wasn’t radiating off him, but it was clear that he had thought this interaction through. That he was sure of himself. 

On the other hand, Keefe was far from any of that. Shaken. Exposed. Bewildered. Troubling thoughts revealed themselves in dark circles under his eyes; the way that The Hair was smushed down in places and sticking up at random; and the exhausted, haunted look dulling his gaze. Firm, skittish attention was the only thing sharpening them.

It wasn’t like he had a clue what Tam’s intentions were, after all. But it seemed like they weren’t bad. 

“Keefe,” Tam whispered, finally blinking. The single word was intentionally breathed out, meant only for his ears. 

For a split second, Keefe wished that they were touching so he could get a reading of the Shade. And then instantly scratched out that thought as best he could. He wasn’t ready for that. He didn’t say anything, but the tiniest of nods that he offered was enough. 

The formerly banished teenager swept a rebellious silver strand back into place with the rest of his bangs from where it once rested right next to his eye. “I’m not sitting on your bed to get mad at you,” He said. 

Keefe groped around for a sensible reply. After a few heartbeats, he found one. “Then what are you up here for?” 

“Simple. You clearly can’t sleep. I mean, you’ve kept both of us up until-” -he gripped the railing and dipped so far down that his waist and up was upside-down before righting himself to look Keefe in the eyes once more- “-exactly 1:34 am with all your tossing and turning. And we went to bed at like, not long after ten. And you came over to uncover a memory or two. Something’s obviously bothering you.” He carefully lowered himself onto the mattress. Switching the positioning of his legs so he was cross-legged, he continued, “I know from experience that if you don’t let out all your thoughts somehow, you’re never gonna get to sleep.” 

Keefe was starting to catch up with his line of thinking. What he thought he was suggesting made sense, it was just that… he was _Tam_. Tam, who only tolerated his existence. Tam, who wasn’t really a talker. Tam, who was saltier than the Dead Sea. “Are you basically trying to be my therapist?” 

“For tonight, so I can _finally_ get some sleep, yeah.” Visible hesitation rippled across his sharp features before he added in a quieter voice, “And because everyone’s secretly right when they say we should get along. It’s kind of stupid to hate each other if we’re risking our lives for each other, isn’t it?” 

He pursed his lips and dropped his gaze to where Tam was subconsciously rubbing a hand back and forth on the fitted bedsheet. Bangs Boy did have a point. “I guess that makes sense,” Keefe admitted. 

_It still feels weird, though._

The words weren’t spoken aloud, but they were both thinking it. 

“So… what’s on your mind?” Tam folded his hands in his lap and leaned back casually. 

Keefe didn’t miss the signs - he used them all the time with other people. Relax your posture. Be casual, but not pushy. But still be respectful and attentive. It was kind of funny to him that they were working. 

He’d never had someone do this for him before, so maybe that was why. 

A glimmer of appreciation and gratitude loosened his tense muscles. “Well, a lot of things to be honest.” He chuckled. It wasn’t forced. 

Tam raised his eyebrows slightly, and then let out an amused kind of exhale. “Considering the world we live in, and friend choices, and a ridiculous amount of other things, that makes sense.” A sliver of a smile gave his face a little bit more emotion. As well as the gentle, knowing kind of gleam in his eyes. 

Keefe laughed a little bit louder that time, lightly swaying back and forth with a smile on his face as he shook his head. When he looked up, Tam’s shoulders were shaking too. 

“It’s so _easy_ and _safe_ to get involved in rebellions,” Keefe joked. Sarcasm practically dripped like melted gelato from the sentence. 

_Gelato_ . He thought about Florence, and how he’d devoured that _melone_ flavored treat in about two minutes. And then Biana’s had trickled all over her hands because she was trying to savor it and it started melting in the heat. He’d laughed and teased her, and she whined for him to shut up. 

He wondered how much different it would’ve been if the twins had been there, instead of trudging through another grueling day of Exillium and returning to the wilted remains of Wildwood. Maybe he and Tam would’ve argued with each other and knocked the other’s gelato on the ground, and then gotten into a fight before somebody had to pull them apart. Maybe they would’ve had a contest of who could eat their gelato fastest. Maybe Tam would’ve smashed his dessert in The Hair after he went one step too far, and then Keefe would’ve smeared his in the other teen’s bangs. Maybe they wouldn’t have been as dramatic as the previous what-ifs, and simply bickered back and forth mildly. 

_Maybe someday, I’ll take you to Florence and we can get gelato_ . Keefe thought. Then he realized that he needed to know English, or Italian or Floriencian if that was even a thing or whatever the heck they spoke over there. _Humans and their ridiculous amount of languages even though they’re all the same species_. He barked out a laugh again. 

Keefe’s focus returned back to Tam when he slouched even further, kicking one leg out to diagonally while keeping the other in its place. He bent over to the side and cupped his face with his hand. The Empath could tell that for him, that was a lot more comfortable than his previous stance. 

He didn’t even realize he was relaxing too until his cheek was pressed against a satin pillowcase, and his hand was tugging the comforter from the jumble of blankets partially over his form. Just so he was warm enough in the icebox of a bedroom. 

The thought of ice shattered his blissfully innocent thoughts with the image of his mother’s cold gaze, and then his worries came flooding back in. Possibilities and connections that he didn’t want to be real. 

But they made sense. In a sickening way. 

He hugged the pillow tighter, squeezing his eyes shut. Then he opened them again, remembering that Tam was there. The boy that wanted to listen - _really_ listen. And wouldn’t back off in fear, or coddle him if he peeled back the curtains concealing the terrors plaguing his mind. 

Tam noticed the swift mood change. After a moment’s hesitation, he stretched out on his side too so they were eye to eye. Maybe what he’d thought earlier about them not being super similar was wrong, because it seemed that Tam understood how intimidating it was to talk to someone who was physically above you in a moment of weakness. 

Keefe had slowly but surely moved away from the wall so he was almost in the middle of the mattress. Likewise, Tam was still very close to the railing. Giving him space. 

He almost told Tam that it was okay if he wanted to move closer, but he decided that was a bit too soon. They were already both pushing pretty big limits in comparison to their normal behavior. No point in potentially messing up progress. 

He’d done that enough times to know to avoid it. 

“Go ahead,” Tam said softly. “I’m listening.” 

_I’m listening_ . Two words that he’d told so many others, but never really heard directed to him. A tender smile graced his features, clearly reading _Thank you_. Tam’s silent reply was the little dip of his chin, and how his thin lips turned upwards in a miniscule degree. 

Diverting his gaze over to one of the many throw pillows’ textured golden border, Keefe inhaled a steadying breath. The artist’s eyes trailed over the nearest corner, taking note of the criss-crosses, tiny hidden shapes, and natural shading in the pattern as he rifled through his troubling thoughts. There were so many things bouncing around his brain - where was he supposed to start? 

The logical side of his mind that he rarely listened to answered; _Explain what you found with Tiergan, and then go from there._

For the first time in forever, he decided to heed the reasonable advice. “You know how I came over to have Tiergan help me find some memories, right?” 

Tam nodded. 

“‘Kay, so basically after searching for hours we finally found this little pocket in my mind. I was sure that it was a breakthrough, and then we… how do I describe it? Opened it? Pierced it? Pried it open?” 

“I get it,” Tam assured him. 

“That’s good. Anyways, the pocket that I thought would have something important didn’t actually have anything important. Just a sunset, some trees, and a pair of green eyes that are really blurry. Like, I can’t tell whether or not they belong to a kid, or an adult, or what gender. You get the point. 

“So that was a really big disappointment. And… I was banking a lot on finding something important, y’know? Because - because I really hate the fact that my mom screwed around with my head, and finding important stuff would make it a tiny bit less messy. I think. And because I want answers.” Keefe stopped before the next reason slipped out. Saying it out loud made it seem true. And he really didn’t want it to be true. 

It caught him by surprise when the warmth of Tam’s hand seeped through his nightshirt and into his shoulder. His grip was firm, but grounding at the same time. Keefe drew his gaze away from the insignificant spot he’d been focusing on and locked eyes with Tam. 

“Hey,” the former Wayward said. “It’s okay. Just let it out, Keefe. It won’t kill you. And it actually feels pretty good when it’s off your chest - trust me. I speak from experience.” 

A rare crease formed between his brows. He sighed shakily, not breaking eye contact. 

Keefe thought about it. The truth about the thoughts buzzing around his head scared him, and releasing them into the world where he couldn’t take them back was even more terrifying. Lying to cover it up was a lot easier. 

_But it hurts you and everyone else more in the long run too,_ the voice from before stated.

Of all the people he could be admitting to first, he would never expect it to be Tam. But in that moment, he seemed like the best option too.

And with that, he finally let the notions that had been haunting him for quite some time free in hoarse whispers. “I - I think I’m useless. I _feel_ useless. I need those memories, and everyone else around me does too. They’re leads to defeating the Neverseen, and I can’t even give the Black Swan _one_ clue. And - and my mom said that I have a lot of missing memories, which makes it _so_ much worse.

_“Anything_ could’ve happened. She could’ve - could’ve used me for a murder plot, for all I know. I could be a _murderer_.” The word rolled off his tongue as a whimper, laced with a heartbreaking concoction of disgust and fear. Bitter tears wet his long lashes. “Or - or something worse, for all I know.” 

Keefe completely forgot that they were making physical contact, therefore putting his ability into action. An emotion that he had a difficult time putting his finger on rose up inside Tam, like a lone voice calling out against another ten thousand. He saw Tam begin to open his mouth, but then he stopped and motioned for him to continue. It was funny how even though he wasn’t a Telepath, or an Empath like him, he knew that Keefe had more to say. 

“The - the gaps in my memories really, _really_ scare me. When you take a memory away from someone, you’re taking away part of them. I _know_ that important stuff happened. Stuff that I - I don’t remember. That means that I don’t remember important parts of me, Tam,” The floodgates were so close to bursting open - but he had one more thing he needed to say. Just a simple sentence. But the plain reality hardly eased his pain. “That means that I don’t really know who I am.”

And then he finally let the frustration, hopelessness, and distress leak into the world in the form of salty liquid streaming from his reddened eyes. Which was quickly accompanied by sobs, the uncontrollable kind that caused his ribs and lungs to ache. 

Keefe wasn’t sure what he’d thought Tam would do; but he definitely didn’t expect to scooped up into the embrace of his firm arms. Loose enough to let him breathe, but tight enough to remind him that he wasn’t alone. 

Suddenly the air conditioning’s effects were almost nonexistent. Trivial enough to be forgotten. The pain inside was still real - a hug didn’t poof it into a different dimension or something. (Though _dam_ , that would’ve been nice. If only life’s challenges could be thwarted that easily.) But it was a lot easier to bear, enveloped in proof that someone was willing to listen without shoving words in his mouth. 

A tiny part of Keefe fretted that curling up in his frenemy’s arms and leaving snotty stains on his shirt that he clung to for what seemed like dear life wasn’t a smart idea. Then the rest of him told that little minority to shut up, because this was gratifying and _huge_ progress in their relationship. 

He wasn’t sure how much time they spent in that position. Tam didn’t say a single word. He just held Keefe securely; hands splayed across his shoulder blades, chin resting atop his golden locks. The silence wasn’t intimidating. 

Out of the blue, Tam slid his chin off the crown of his head and whispered in his ear, “You’re not worthless.” His warm breath tickled the shell of his ear. Butterflies stirred in his stomach, which definitely wasn’t expected. _It’s probably because having someone whisper in your ear like that is hot._ Keefe thought. _Not because I’m interested in Bangs Boy. Yeah. That makes a lot of sense._

“You’re not worthless, Keefe.” He repeated in that deep voice of his. “Look, you know I don’t sugarcoat things,” Tam started. 

Keefe snorted. “Don’t I know it, Mr. Blunt,” 

Tam ignored the jab. “But I’m serious when I say that you’re not useless. I know you think you are, because you’re running into a ton of dead ends. But everyone else is too, Keefe. So you’re not the only one who isn’t being perfect right now. All of this stuff with defeating the Neverseen is _always_ gonna be a ton of trial and error.” 

“But it feels like too much error and not enough good stuff to win this,” Keefe sniffled. 

“It’s gonna be okay in the end.” Tam promised, rubbing soothing circles into his back. “It has to be,” 

“But-”

“Uh-uh. We’re not going there. It’ll be a bit messy from here to the finish, but we _will_ defeat the Neverseen one way or another. ‘Kay? It’s gonna happen. Don’t lose faith in us.” He cupped both of Keefe’s cheeks, and leveled their faces so they were almost nose-to-nose. Flutters were churning in his stomach due to the close proximity, and thanks to the stupid ability he inherited from his dad, it was twice as intense because Tam was experiencing an identical sensation. 

“Fine.” He breathed. 

Crinkles formed at the edges of his striking eyes, indicating a smile. “Good. And Keefe, you may think you don’t know who you are, but you really do. Your ego exists for a reason.” 

“Wowwwww, my pride definitely didn’t take a blow from that,” Keefe snarked. 

“Shut up,” Little force backed up the words. “In all seriousness though, you really do know who you are, deep down. Your brain’s just a little bit thrown off, ‘cause of all the stuff going on - that’s all. It’ll make sense soon. And you don’t have to remember everything about yourself to know who you are. Don’t be scared of yourself, Keefe. You don’t need to be, because you’re a good person no matter how much of an idiot you are. Don’t forget that.” 

Keefe absorbed his words. “Okay,” The word was spoken slowly, but there was conviction behind it. He laid the side of his face against the elf’s chest, far up enough that he could feel Tam’s collarbone above his temple. Soft breathing blew lightly in a consistent rhythm against Keefe’s scalp, and swayed a few gilded locks ever so slightly.

Nighttime stillness was usually associated with traits like eerie, and tense. But the quiet that swathed them was peaceful. Moonlight streamed in through the crack between Tam’s charcoal curtains, washing the room in a pale monochrome tinted with soft powder blue. Long shadows were cast where the dim light was blocked by physical objects. 

An unintentional yawn brought them out of the mentally relaxed yet dormant states they’d been in for what seemed like timeless ages. Keefe wasn’t even sure which one of them it was, but it successfully called the evasive drowsiness he’d been looking for earlier that night. “What time is it?” He mumbled into Tam’s shoulder. 

The slightly shorter male craned his neck momentarily in an attempt to wake himself up a bit more. He withdrew the fingers that had crept up to cradle the back of the blond’s head. “I’ll check,” Tam murmured in his ear. 

Tam took his sweet time untangling their limbs - which honestly was worse than suddenly ripping away, in Keefe’s opinion. Slowly draining the warmth between them increased the temptation to sink into his arms again. He hadn’t fully realized how starved he was of a good cuddle until now - physical comfort wasn’t something he could rely on his parents to provide when he was younger. Especially not now. 

_I guess I’m a sap then._ He realized. Then he mentally shrugged it off. _Nothing wrong with being a hugger. It just shows that I care._

Keefe flopped onto the tangle of blankets as soon as he and Tam were no longer touching. He studied the miniscule details of the pale ceiling as Tam bent over to look at his clock again. 

A low curse from Tam gave him a good enough reason to roll over in his direction. He scoffed when the twin flipped his metallic bangs. The smirk on Tam’s face wasn’t as infuriating as usual for some reason. It faded fast, but only because he was relaxing. “It’s about two thirty,” He informed Keefe, laying down a few inches away. 

“It feels later than that.” 

“Yeah, it does.” 

Normally whenever silence occurred in a conversation, Keefe was quick to fill it with something to make his companion laugh - or something witty. But right now he didn’t feel the need to. 

He hadn’t even realized that he was trying to fall asleep until he subconsciously groped around for Mrs. Stinkbottom and only found empty patches of space. Rolling over again, he dug through the mound of disturbed blankets. Still nothing. 

Tam sat up from where he had sprawled out on his back and rubbed his eyes. “What’re you looking for?” Not even a few seconds later, the answer dawned on him. “You forgot Mrs. Stinkbottom at home, didn’t you?” 

Keefe nodded, his usually cheerful features sullen. How could he have neglected bringing his beloved stuffed gulon along? He massaged his temples before burying his face in his hands. “I’m such a bad stuffed animal parent,” He groaned. 

Tam sighed. After a contemplatory pause, he said, “Be right back,” and gracefully leaped off the top bunk, landing with a quiet thud. 

Alarmed, Keefe instinctively sat upright. But he did so far too fast, and a dizzy spell came over him. When it passed, he felt embarrassed for the initial reaction - and the thought that accompanied it. 

_Wait - please don’t go!_

Squeezing his eyes shut, he internally reprimanded himself. _Keefe, you’re not a kid anymore. Hold your own hand. Just because Tam’s suddenly not being super hostile doesn’t mean you have the right to be clingy._

Relief breezed over him when he didn’t hear any creaking doors signaling Tam’s departure. What he heard alternatively was sheets being peeled back, and the mattress making a tiny noise in response to Tam putting his weight on it briefly before retreating once more. Once again, he didn’t even bother to use the ladder built into the side of the bunkbeds and jumped up instead. 

It took less than five seconds for Keefe to spot the plush griffin clenched in his left hand. Unlike Keefe’s little stuffed companion, (and all of his friends’ stuffed animals, for that matter) it was clearly homemade, stitched together by an inexperienced hand. What looked like cubed crystals were permanently inserted into the flimsy fabric crown nestled on its head.

“Awwwww, it’s adorable,” Keefe cooed. He crawled closer and gazed at the imperfect griffin. 

“This,” he said, shifting so they were face to face, “is Salty. Short for ‘Salt Prince’.” 

Keefe inched nearer and drew his legs to his chest. Propping his chin up on his kneecaps, he made a strange jerk to signal for him to continue. Excitement danced in his gaze, the kind that a child eagerly waiting for a story would have. 

Tam rubbed gentle circles into the hybrid replica’s cheek. “When Linh and I were eight, she had this sewing phase. Whenever I’d see her, more than half the time she was working on some sewing project. She got less obsessed a few months later before stopping altogether. I don’t think she even remembers it,” He chuckled. “Anyways, our inception day was coming up. I was the one who said we should start celebrating it so our parents were less believable whenever they tried telling anyone that we weren’t twins. I don’t know why or where she got the idea to give me something for it, but she did. 

“It’s pretty funny looking back - I was so confused before she gave it to me. I didn’t see her that much, and whenever I tried to see what she was working on she’d either shoo me away or hide her project. 

“So our inception day rolled around on a Saturday morning, and I _totally_ forgot about it. My plans were all about sleeping in until dad came in and forced me to get ready for the day.” 

Keefe snickered, and regarded him with twinkling eyes. “I’m assuming things didn’t go as planned?” 

Tam snorted. “Not at all. It was like, 6 a.m or something and I woke up to Linh jumping on my bed and shouting _‘Wake up!’_ over and over.”

Keefe burst out laughing. He quickly covered his mouth and tried to muffle it with a pillow he snatched. Waking up Tiergan in the middle of the night was not on his to-do list. 

Assuming he’d slept through him bawling. Keefe quickly shoved the thought aside. 

Feeling too lazy to put the pillow back, he squished it between his chest and thighs instead. 

A broad grin was set into Tam’s usually solemn face when Keefe returned his attention to the temporary storyteller. “I bolted upright, and kinda yelled at her for waking me up like that. She didn’t care at all and told me that she had a surprise for me. As soon as she said “surprise” I was fully awake.”

Keefe’s shoulders trembled with a contained laugh. 

Tam rolled his silvery blue eyes. “Come on, give me some slack. I was eight, Keefe. _Eight_.” 

“Fair point. Continue.” 

He did as requested. “So as soon as I got up and ready for the day, she pulled _this_ ,” -he held up the stuffed griffin- “out from behind her back with a grin on her face. She said, quote unquote,” Tam cleared his throat and shifted his voice up what seemed like a few octaves, “ _Happy inception day, Tam! This is Salt Prince, but he likes to be called Salty instead. He’s only the Salt_ Prince _because you’re the Salt_ King _. Yes, that means he’s your son, so you need to be a_ good dad _to him. Don’t leave him behind, keep him safe, give him love, you know the drill. Got it?”_

Keefe wheezed at the totally inaccurate impression of Linh. Even though he hadn’t known her when she was eight, he was pretty sure her voice hadn’t sounded like a chipmunk high on helium. 

Tam waited patiently for Keefe to get himself under control. “Deep down, I wasn’t, like, _in love_ with Salty. I didn’t have that _Awwwwww_ moment that you had. But Linh had clearly worked really hard on making him for me, and I forgot a present for her, so I told myself I’d do it for Linh. 

“So, I’ve made sure to keep him in a safe place ever since. You’re the first person I’ve told this to, so don’t make me regret it.” He finished. 

Keefe blinked, soaking up the last of the story. “I am? So you’ve kept him secret?” 

“Yeah. I don’t need him to sleep or anything, and it’s always felt like a bad idea to show him to someone else. But I figured you wouldn’t judge.” 

“I’m not,” He agreed. “What are the little cubes on his crown?” 

“Salt cubes,” Tam answered. “Linh coated them in some gloss so they can’t dissolve. They can break, though, so I have to be careful.” 

“That’s a cute touch.” Keefe chuckled. _And thoughtful._

Adoring silence ensued for a brief period after that. Smile-creases formed around his eyes when he realized that Salty’s beak had an upturned line on one side to represent a smirk. 

“Yeah.” Tam broke the silence. “Since you forgot Mrs. Stinkbottom, you can borrow Salty for the night. Take good care of him - I’ll hunt you down if you don’t, promise.” The usual snarl that Tam had when conversating with him emerged at the last part. He visibly hesitated before carefully handing Salty over.

Keefe nodded, a little bit startled by the hostility. It made sense, but he’d been getting used to not being growled at. And liking it. 

Tam softened again and nodded. He leaned over towards the railing to jump off again, but stopped when his fingers coiled around the bar. Looking over his shoulder and making eye contact, he asked, “Would it be too awkward if I stayed up here for the night to keep an eye on Salty?” Light struck his pale chiseled face in a thin diagonal line, illuminating a strip of one of his argent blue irises. 

Keefe sat up from where he’d sprawled out on the mattress once again, half buried in blankets, still cradling the griffin to his chest. One of his usual smirks revealed itself. “That’s your excuse for spending more time with the all mighty Keefster?” 

“Annnnnnnd you had to ruin the moment.” Tam sighed. “Of course you did. No, Keefe, I don’t do excuses.” 

“There’s always a first time for everything, Bangs Boy. We’ll keep it between you and me.” He winked. 

The boy across the bunk scowled at him. He opened his mouth to fire back a retort, then must’ve decided it wasn’t worth wasting his breath on. Curling up into a ball, he firmly pressed his back to the guardrails. 

As Keefe was tugging a duvet cover from the muddle of blankets, he noticed that Tam didn’t have anything. So he gently placed Salty on a throw pillow before dissembling the lump of smooth fabrics. After exerting a bit more effort, he successfully pulled out a baby blue quilt. 

Still clutching the patchwork with watermelon colored designs, he scooted over to Tam. Little did Keefe know that Tam’s eyes were still open, and was watching his every move. So he was definitely in for a bit of a surprise when Tam suddenly shifted onto his back and demanded, “What are you doing?”

The intensity that Keefe was used to receiving was back and blazing. He flinched back. “Just giving you a blanket, jeez. You looked cold,” 

He blinked, and the sharp distrust faded from his features. “That’s… not the answer I was expecting. Thanks.” 

_What_ were _you expecting?_ He wanted to ask. Instead, he replied, “No problem.” and attempted to lay the blanket across his form.

It was not successful. 

The 16 year old’s hand shot out to grip his wrist, halting what Keefe was doing. The other arm was positioned behind him to stabilize him as he heaved his upper body up, but not all the way. Something like a 45 degree angle. “Um, what are you doing?” His eyebrows were scrunched together. Slight alarm tinged with worry jabbed at him none too kindly. If he hadn’t known that they were simply Tam’s emotions, he would’ve thought that someone had kneed him in the stomach. 

“I’m just trying to put the blanket on you, _chill,_ ” 

Keefe never would’ve suspected that a light blush was stained across Tam’s face if his wrist hadn’t been gripped by his calloused fingers. Soft warmth blossomed and swirled in a way that caused a small flurry of flutters. Weird, but a lot of things that had happened that night were weird. What harm could a little more abnormal in their lives do?

“That’s kind of you, but I’m fully capable of doing that myself,” Tam stated. “You could’ve just gave it to me.” 

“Well I’m capable of trying to be nice to you as well,” Keefe shot back. It sounded much more venomous than he had intended, so he added in a gentler tone, “Can I just do one nice thing for you? You listened to me - and you’re right, that really helped. I just want to show that I appreciate it.” 

They locked eyes, both much more tender than they realized. Finally, Tam gave him a slow nod. “Thanks again,” He whispered. 

A soft smile manipulated his lips. “Of course,” 

This time, when he gently pushed Tam back down on his back and laid the blanket across his form, he didn’t fight. Keefe received a questioning look when he lifted up his head, but it evaporated into that soft warmth from before when he slid a pillow underneath. 

Keefe slid back under the duvet cover, and held Salty to his chest. The exterior was worn down to a soft flannel-like texture from what he figured was a combination of time and care. Closing his eyes, he rested the side of his face against the cushy elven-standard pillow and raised the well loved stuffed griffin up high enough so that he could bury his nose in it. Peace swaddled him like a baby’s blanket. 

When he fell asleep mere minutes later, the tick-tock of Tam’s clock wasn’t annoying - it was calming. And he really did believe that things were going to be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, kudos, and constructive criticism is appreciated! Let me know if there's anything I should add to the tags. (I wrote this for 2020 Pride Month, so there might be some stuff that I forgot to mention. It's been a while and a lot of stuff has happened since June lol.) Have a great rest of your day/night!


End file.
